7:49
by ofhalsen
Summary: There is a perpetual ticking with each second that passes that for some reason is getting on your nerves today unlike every other day. Perhaps it's because you can practically feel it mocking you. Time never was on your side, but you always knew that. /Some drabble I ended up typing out of nowhere. Spoilers ahoy.


**A/N: I don't have an explanation for this one. I just started typing and it turned into Madoka. This was going to be some trippy Yumikuri shit but look where it ended up. **

**I guess I can't complain. I just feel bad for the readers as this is my first PMMM fic-thing and I'm about eighty-five percent sure this is out of character but whatever I tried and that's all that really matters. Lightly implied Madohomu. A look into Homura with her everyday struggle, as while I like the span of time in PMMM I figured: What if Homura actually kept resetting the timeline after getting so far with Madoka not contracting in one and figuring she can get it right if she goes back just a couple of hours...**

**Enjoy.**

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Check the clock. 7:49 am. There is a perpetual ticking with each second that passes that for some reason is getting on your nerves today unlike every other day. Perhaps it's because you can practically feel it mocking you. Time never was on your side, but you always knew that.

Sitting up, you run your left hand through your hair as you try to blink the sleep away that lingers near the corner of your eyes. You're dizzy, you're confused, you're annoyed, but most of all you can't shake the feeling of fear creeping up your spine. It's not fear of what is to come, no, you know well by now what's to come. It's a fear that it will never stop. This nightmare will never end, doomed to continue cycling on and on without fail. It hasn't failed before, who's to say it will fail now? But you'd be lying if you didn't cling to a shred of hope that maybe this time, this time things will be better and change.

The sun's risen a good thirty minutes before you, as you can tell by the beginnings of light peeking through what little shade there is to your bedroom window. That has to be a sign; it wasn't bright in the slightest last time, right?

As you slump over the side of your bed and stare at the floor you can only wonder if you pissed off some deity to another religion and they were exacting their revenge. You can make up excuses and blame figures that may or may not be there. At the end of the day, you know how you got yourself into this mess and you deserve every minute of this.

You push the thoughts aside for now and chose to get dressed instead. You spend maybe ten minutes deciding what to eat before coming to the conclusion that you're not really hungry. From there, the day grows rather monotonous, until you hear a strange report urging citizens to evacuate that you swear you've heard before. The ticking from earlier that morning has followed you throughout the day and grows louder with each passing hour. You feel sick to your stomach and excuse yourself to the restroom to see if your stomach can find a way to cope with your stress. It's not use. Nothing happens.

You check your watch and leave the bar stool you had been occupying to her house. You start running, as you realize just how quickly the minutes are passing and what little time you have left. Every time, you cut off another two minutes trying to prepare and each the two minutes wind up unintentionally wasted. You're running out of time again.

Just when you think you won't make it, you arrive at your destination. The city is dark and you can hear the maniacal laughter of a demonic being.

Thinking takes too much time. Your defenses are stronger than last time but still not enough. You want to believe that this time you've gotten here just in time and can finish off this horrible creature. You want to believe you've saved her. And the moment you find yourself struck with a blow that seemingly comes out of nowhere - though you swore you had the calculations down this time - you hear an ear-shattering wail. You race forward, only to turn around and see a large, glowing light. You avert your gaze as you don't want to look into the light. It never ends well.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as everything becomes less hectic, and you realize you're okay but you don't see her. You run and shout her name before you find her. She's on the ground, breathing shallowly as blood continues to seep through her clothes. You beg her to stay with you, claim that she will be okay, but it's no use. You can't stop crying now and she's begging you keep her from doing the same foolish thing when you're not even sure how much more you can take all of this. It's clear you're uncertain and your arm is literally shaking as you can't help but sob while reaching back to start the maze all over again.

Check the clock. 7:49 am. There is a perpetual ticking with each second that passes that for some reason is getting on your nerves today unlike every other day. Perhaps it's because you can practically feel it mocking you. Time never was on your side, but you always knew that.


End file.
